


Comedy

by Leaves_Crown



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Getting Together, Jealousy, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaves_Crown/pseuds/Leaves_Crown
Summary: Tezuka is not thrilled when he sees Fuji making out with someone else, even if it is for a performance.





	Comedy

It had seemed a good idea; Shitenhouji and Seigaku training together for two weeks. With Shitenhouji around, Tezuka had known things could happen that were outlandish. Being invited to participate in a school comedy competition had made him brace for it. Still, what he saw on the podium now, he could not have expected.

Fuji sat on a table, looking up at the tall Shitenhouji actor called Sato. Sato smiled down on him and stepped in, subtly moving between Fuji’s legs. His hand came up, caressing Fuji’s cheek with the back of it. Tezuka could see the sigh that left Fuji’s lips and his blood began to boil.

He had felt a connection, an attraction even, to Fuji for quite a while now. Yet, he had always pushed it away. Fuji and he both had dreams that would lead them to other directions, and it wouldn’t be fair for him to speak out. Yet now it was all bursting to the surface. Tezuka didn’t want anyone touching Fuji like this, and he ached to go and push this Sato away from him.

The audience was not laughing for once, but watching with baited breath. Fuji looked stunning, sitting there in his white robe. Sato’s hand came to his knee, and he slowly slid the fabric upwards, exposing more of Fuji’s leg. Tezuka had never hated comedy like this before.

“What’s…,” Oishi let out. He sounded confused as Sato leaned in. Fuji turned his face just slightly, letting those lips land on his cheek instead of his lips.

Shitenhouji people clapped, laughing, probably in on some joke the Seigaku players didn’t understand. Sato winked at the audience, but wasn’t finished yet. He undid the top two buttons of Fuji’s costume and kissed his neck.

“You’re not enjoying the performance?” Inui asked slyly.

Tezuka didn’t answer. He didn’t realize he was clenching his fists. Every bit of control he had was used to remain seated.

Shiraishi emerged on the stage, wearing a dress. His eyes grew wide as he pointed at Sato and Fuji, and shrieked.

Sato smirked at the audience, calmly stepped away from Fuji. He took Fuji’s hand as they bowed together. The Shitenhouji students stood up and clapped wildly.

“I’m not getting it,” Oishi mumbled.

“Fuji’s always had a weird sense of humour,” Kikumaru replied. He didn’t seem fazed as Oishi did and clapped along.

Tezuka couldn’t bring himself to clap, even if that must have made him impolite. He was too shaken by what he had seen. The thought that anyone else would touch Fuji like that made him furious. The next performers came up, but he couldn’t focus. Instead, he kept glancing at the curtain behind which Fuji and Sato had disappeared. What if their attraction had been real, and they were now acting on it. The image of Sato’s hand sliding up Fuji’s robe came back to him. For once, he did not push away his feelings, but examined them. He was jealous and far more infatuated with Fuji than he had told himself to be.

Two performances passed by like that. To his immense relief, the curtain parted a little just before the third started and revealed Fuji. He no longer wore his robe, but black pants and the blue shirt he had bought yesterday.

Their eyes met, and Tezuka did not look away this time. The smile on Fuji’s lips faded. He looked puzzled at the intensity of Tezuka’s stare.

“Excuse me,” Tezuka said to Oishi and stood up.

Oishi shifted to let him pass, but the loud introduction of the group of girls starting a routine drew his attention away again.

Tezuka made his way to the edge of the theatre where Fuji waited.

“Is something the matter?” Fuji whispered. He gasped when Tezuka took his hand and led him to the exit. Outside, Tezuka spotted a few trees at the other side of the car park. Fuji followed quietly, but did glance at him with surprise in his eyes.

Now that Tezuka had started this, he didn’t hesitate anymore. He stopped when they had reached the shade of the trees and faced Fuji.

Fuji looked up at him, with the same, perhaps more intensity as he had displayed during his performance. Perhaps he knew what Tezuka was going to say. Tezuka hoped he was not dreading it. He could only speak the truth now.

“Did you practice it often? The performance?”

“A few times, yes.”

So, Sato had touched Fuji all those times when Tezuka had been thinking they were rehearsing silly comedy.

“I did not like your performance.”

“Why?” Fuji asked.

“I think you know.”

Fuji’s eyes met his. “I want to hear it.”

“Someone else touching you made me jealous.”

Fuji blinked, as if he did not expect Tezuka to state it so bluntly.

“I know we might live in different countries soon. This is why I’ve always kept quiet,” Tezuka said. “But I can no longer deny that I am in love with you.”

Fuji stared at him in utter amazement.

“If your feelings for me are similar, I hope we can be together despite our travels.”

Fuji just stood there, in the shade of the tree, with widened eyes. Then surprise made place for resolve. He smiled and licked his upper lip, a clear invitation. Relief and desire flooded Tezuka’s system. His hand rested on Fuji’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed him.

Fuji’s lips parted, letting his tongue in. Tezuka could think of nothing but his name. Fuji. Fuji. Mine.

Possessive, he slid a hand under his blue shirt. He wanted to feel more of him already. Fuji shivered at the touch.

He broke the kiss and turned around. For a terrible moment, Tezuka thought Fuji had changed his mind, but he took Tezuka’s wrists and pulled them over his waist. Hugging him from behind like that, made Tezuka even more aware of his smell. Fuji fitted well in his arms. Much better than he would fit with anyone else.

“Maybe I should make out with someone else more often, if this is the result.”

Tezuka tightened his hold on him. “No need.”

Fuji chuckled. “No?”

“I know what I want.”

Before Fuji could tease him any further, he nipped at his neck. Fuji let out a soft moan, and any reply he might have had was forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just popped into my head yesterday and I wrote it over the weekend. 
> 
> Normally, I take much longer editing and reading a story over, but I decided to post it right away.


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